The Dawning
by onelildustbunni
Summary: AU WolverineRogue. The world hates mutants as strongly as ever, and Charles Xavier is just a man with a dream. Follow the lives of the young, uncanny X-men as they are gathered from all corners of the globe.
1. Default Chapter

**__**

Time by Sarah McLachlan

Time here  
All but means nothing  
Just shadows that move  
'Cross the wall

  
They keep me company  
But they don't ask of me  
They don't say nothing at all

  
And I need just a little more silence  
And I need just a little more time

  
You send your thieves to me  
Silently stalking me  
Dragging me into your war

  
Would you give me no choice in this  
I know you can't resist   
Trying to re-open a sore

  
So leave me be  
I don't want to argue  
I just get confused  
And I come all undone  
And if I agree  
Well it's just to appease you

Cause I don't remember  
What we're fighting for

  
You see love  
A tight, thorny thread  
That's you spin in a circle of gold  
To have me, to hold me  
A token for all to see  
Captured to be yours alone

  
I need just a little more silence  
Yeah I need just a little more time  
For courage to pull away  
There will be hell to pay  
Deeper you cut to the bone  


So leave me be  
I don't want to argue  
I just get confused  
And I come all undone  
And if I agree  
Well it's just to appease you

Cause I don't remember  
What we're fighting for

  
Time here  
All but means nothing  
Just shadows that move  
'Cross the wall  
They keep me company  
But they don't ask of me  
They don't say nothing at all  


So leave me be  
I don't want to argue  
I just get confused  
And I come all undone  
And if I agree  
Well it's just to appease you

Cause I don't remember  
What we're fighting for…

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Title: The Dawning

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Pairing: AU James/Marie (Wolverine/Rogue)

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Author: 1LiLRoGuE

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Summary: AU (Alternative Universe). Mutants are hated and feared more than ever by all of humanity. They are seen to be blasphemies, sins, utterly abhorred and abominated. Many are tortured both physically and mentally; and there is no law against open experimentation. Charles Xavier is merely a rich, crippled man—with a dream. To gather together this burgeoning new race, and teach them to control the powers that can often lead them to insanity. James/Marie (Wolverine/Rogue)

Author's note: Yo, yo! Here I am again, totin' along a brand new shiny fan fic. Yeah, I promise to update the other stuff eventually, but I GOTTA write this out first ^^ This fic was brought on by intense watching of both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Basically, I've combined every guy I've ever liked (Wolverine, Spike, Angel, Eli—lol--) and made them into James Howlett, a troubled teenager who is spouting mutant powers left, right and center. 

Enjoy! -Katie

Disclaimer: *Blinks dully at screen* Any person who is stupid enough to believe an idiot like me owns Marvel, doesn't deserve to read my work. J/K. I do **not** own any of the characters in this story, except for any OC (Original Characters) that might show up. ^^

Dedication: To Eli, my love. He's so silly, and about as evil as a marshmallow, although he vehemently denies it. He's also my fiancé! Woohoo! He popped the question this March J 

+ + 1 + +

His face expressionless, the boy tossed the cd case across the room. With blank eyes, he watched it crack, a long line seeping down the hard plastic shell. In a way, he thought, it was him. Cracking up. 

It was hard, constantly hiding it. Getting harder and harder by every passing day. His hearing had advanced, was still advancing, so greatly that he could hear the noon train ripping through on the other side of town. He could hear the local gang raping a teen girl at knife-to-throat point---and laughing. The sound of his girlfriend secretly taking a little on the side, with his best friend.

James' face hardened, his hearing focusing on the one voice.

__

"I can't take it anymore. He's just so moody all the time, and so fucking quiet. It, like, creeps me out."

He listened as his friend agreed with a grunt.

__

They just don't get it, he thought, his heart frosting over. He didn't talk because his voice bothered him, gave him a splitting headache. It sounded like a deafening explosion in his ears. He'd taken to wearing headphones 24/7, although he never played music anymore. He'd thrown all his CDs out. It was a laugh, thinking of ever playing them again.

It was the same with his wardrobe. Colors were starting to get too bright for his eyes, making them ache and burn; so now he only wore black. Of course, everyone assumed he'd sworn himself to goth. He'd made no protest, accepting their judgement, as it was an acceptable explanation. 

Fiddling with his sunglasses, he frowned. He had to take them off in the house, or everyone raised their eyebrows. He was trying to keep it as low-key as possible. The idea of them suspecting something about his rapidly advancing senses terrified him beyond reason. He knew what they did to people like him.

He didn't know how much longer he could hide it, though. Tastes, smells---they were starting to overwhelm him, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was terrible, forcing food against his gag reflex. But he had to eat, there was no alternative. And there was nothing he could do about the smells. He almost passed out yesterday in PE class, during the locker room. He'd been able to pass it off as overexertion, but not for long. 

Feeling his head starting to throb again, James reached edgily for his backpack. His headaches were rapidly overtaking pharmaceutical drugs; he was now immune to Tylenol, Advil, and Aspirin. Lately he'd been trying out a few different things, and had found that only taking a combination of four different pain relievers did anything anymore.

"God," he said, and instantly regretted it. A tear leaked out of his eye as his eardrums felt like they had been shredded.

Zipping up his bag, James tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed without water. He couldn't stomach even the clear liquid anymore; and the pills alone burned his throat all the way down. Waves of nausea sent him doubled over to the bathroom, clutching his stomach.

A knock soon came at the door. "You okay in there?" his mom asked, alarmed by the sound of dry heaving.

James winced, feeling as if a cannon had gone off in his ear. _Shit, _he thought, exasperated. He had no idea how he could stand hearing his own voice crack his skull.

"'M---okay," he gasped, his bloodshot eyes tearing up. _Damn._

"You sure?"

__

Fucking…helll…his brain slurred. 

"Jus…stomach bug…." He managed. Sweat trickled down his forehead. "…lll be O..K."

Hearing his mother leave the area---and the footsteps down the stairs that were louder than explosions—he crawled up to the sink and with shaking hands turned on the cold tap so a trickle of water came out. Even the seemingly gentle sound of the water tinkling into the sink made his head throb. To him, it was like a deafening waterfall rushing down and crashing on a metal sheet. 

__

What's…wrong with me? He asked himself dully, running a wet hand over his forehead and brushing away his sweat dampened, black hair. _There's nothing left. I can't keep on like this. It's too…much. Too fucking much. Fucking hell._ Dully, he contemplated killing himself. Death had always seemed daunting before. 

Before this, before his life became a single line of decay, he had been a normal boy. Good at school, athletic, enjoyed music, games, and girls. Didn't really do bad stuff, sheered off drugs, kept smoking down to a toll. He'd even been somewhat popular. He'd always been on good terms with his single, hard-working mom. He'd been looking forwards to graduation, which had been just a little over a year away. 

Then it'd started. It began with just touch. He'd felt like he had a fever, and blew it off, thinking it was a cold. He'd even enjoyed it a little, at first. Felt like being on drugs, gave him a rush to feel things with his skin. It worked like an aphrodisiac, too. But as it intensified, it began to bother him. His bones ached from the sensation of walking. His feet burned in his socks. The sensation of brushing his hair stung so much that he broke his usual habit of gelling it and went to school with bed-hair, wildly sticking up in points.

Needless to say, shaving became a bitch. He'd quit when it felt like peeling his face off his bones, and now had an admirable growth of stubble. People began getting a little leery of him when---to cope with his suddenly hypersensitive eyes---he'd taken to wearing faded black clothing. His normally amiable 'aura' became snappy and unfriendly, even borderlining on psychotic at times. Even the smallest things began to irritate him, and he'd occasionally make unreasonable demands, like snarling at his classmate who sat next to him to 'go blow her fucking nose or (he'd) gut her with her fucking pencil' during the time she had a cold.

Rumors contemplated he was into drugs, deep. Everyone became afraid of him, assumed he had a gun. All of his friends abandoned him, save a precious few, and thanks to his horribly acute hearing, he now knew even they were deceiving him. _Can't take it, _he thought, blinking stupidly as he scanned the bathroom for something sharp.

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	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Another glorious chapter! Enjoy! :-)

- Kate // 1LiLRoGuE

++ 2 ++

"Did you see Crystal Brooks and Jim Olison at the mall yesterday?"

Marie watched Lindsey as she babbled onto another rumor. _She's, like, the gossip queen_, she thought dryly. "Oh come off it, Lynn. We all know that half your sightings are hallucinations."

"No!" protested Lindsey, looking a little hurt. "I was there. You wouldn't believe it! They were, like, doing it in broad daylight in the phone booth. _And I don't think he was wearing protection."_

Marie rolled her eyes.

"Girl, she's probably on the 'pill. She's not stupid, like you are."

"I'm not stupid," Lynn whined.

"Yes you are," Anne remarked without humor. She flashed Marie a look that spoke shallow volumes about loosing Lynn from the group. Marie felt a little begrudged. _Like she can tell me what to do,_ she thought, her eyes narrowing at the girl with the straight, red hair.

"Girls, girls, let's not fight. This isn't the time to bicker. We have the _plan _to pull off. Alright, so it's settled. Lynn's staying at Anne's, Lee is staying at my place, Anne's at Lynn's, and I'm over at Lee's. Blow it, and we're all dead." Marie cleared her throat and looked directly at Lynn.

"Think you can keep that straight?"

"Here, I'll write it out for you," Lee offered, a little too kindly for Marie's taste. _She's supposed to be like that to me. This is MY group. I guess I'll have to remind them just who they're messing with._

"Hey look, it's the walking void," she remarked snottily—and very loudly, looking over her shoulder and down her nose at the school's newly-formed goth. His name was James something. _Holden, Holwin…Howlett, that's it, _she thought, then remembered she didn't _care _what he was called. All that mattered was that this was a chance for her to confirm her superiority of the other girls.

"Luke, I am your father!" Anne boomed, assuming a deep voice. The girls all broke into high-pitched laughter, and Marie smirked. _So, Anne thinks she can out-do me, huh?_

"I bet he's so desperate to get laid that he'd lick dog shit off the bottom of Amy's shoes!"

The girls howled. Amy was the nerdiest kid in the school, barely recognizable as female in their eyes. She wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses and pulled her hair back in two tight, unforgiving pigtails. Among other things, she liked to study, and was academically the best student in their school.

James winced, although Marie got the odd feeling it wasn't from the comment. There was always something strange about the guy. He wasn't made right.

"Well, _I _bet he'd whore out his mother to get a taste of the wonder weed." Anne said with an answering flash of challenge towards Marie. _Bitch, _the brunette thought bitterly, fingering her napkin and sucking in her bottom lip. _How DARE she try to snatch my position?! _

"Yeah? Well---I heard he's turning into a mutie freak!"

Marie's own words rung in her ears. Even she couldn't believe what she'd just said. A clatter came from behind her, and she felt the blood drain from her face as she knew James was right behind her. She could hear his breathing, slightly heavy, and it both frightened and angered her.

"What did you just say?" he asked, and Marie trembled, a little surprised. She hadn't heard him say a word in over half a year, and his voice sounded deep and rusty.

"I---er----didn't---" she stammered, looking up at him. Every rumor she'd ever heard and passed on about him came ringing back in her head. _Guns. Drugs. Knives. Murder. Rape. Shit, oh shit. I've really dug myself in now, haven't I?_

"Take it back."

Marie swallowed and tried to look at his face. His eyes, shielded by the sunglasses, were literally impenetrable. His face looked calm, as was his voice, but she still felt nauseous. 

"I—Ah'm really sorrahy!" She suddenly spat, her carefully repressed southern accent blooming fully. She shot a smoldering glare at Anne, who was---purposely---unable to repress a giggling fit. 

James winced again, which was completely inappropriate. She was _apologizing, _for god's sakes. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him, biting furiously on her pretty, pink lower lip.

"What are _you _looking so pained about, you punk wanna-be?" She asked venomously, her eyes livid. She wasn't used to having members of her group openly rebel against her. Granted, Anne had every right to hate and envy her---Marie was beautiful, rich, catered to, and the Captain of the Cheerleading squad. Anne was merely a rookie cheerleader, bound by the orders and snobby treatment of the other members of the team. Marie had about fifteen boyfriends—whom she'd all turned down for the dance, and then afterwards gone out with the Captain of the Football team like a typical cheerleader. 

To make matters worse, she couldn't tell what this guy---James—was feeling. She couldn't tell whether her insults had hit home or not. All she knew her mutie taunt had woken something up, something she wasn't sure she wanted to awaken. 

James wrinkled his nose down at her.

"Your voice, frail," he said gruffly, his voice barely a whisper. Marie felt no urge to protest his name-calling; the fact that he was about two feet taller than her, and filled out—and probably not against the thought of hurting a girl, according to certain sources---erased any rebelliousness left in her.

"Keep…it down."

James turned away from the group, giving them no further regard. Anne was now openly laughing. Marie felt close to tears at being so publicly humiliated by that _thing._

"Jerk," she muttered, suddenly losing her appetite. She stood up abruptly and left the cafeteria.


End file.
